The Beach

Colorado had a lot of great things, but a beach obviously wasn't one of them. I think there might have been reservoirs or somesuch, but in the 5 years we lived there, the only time we went to the beach was when we flew to Los Angeles and Mexico. The last time we took Jack; he started walking there.

Back East now, we went to the beach twice this past week -- Jack and I on Friday, Jack and Emily and I on Saturday. And although the beaches themselves were mediocre at best (broken glass was fairly prevalent on one), it was great. Jack wanted to be carried at first, didn't want to put his feet on the weird sand or in the oceah, but within minutes he'd gotten past that and was running back and forth across the sand, from towels to water and back again, over and over and over. He had a little watering can he wanted to fill, to help us make sand castles and sand bunnies and sand turtles. "Another one!" And we'd run to get more water to mix with more sand to make more.

On a couple of occasions we saw horseshoe crabs, moving along the edge of the shore. I pointed them out to him. "Can I touch it?" he said. Er, no, probably not a good idea. Once we saw a mother duck and her ducklings. Jack ran after them, not getting within 20 feet of course before they scurried away. "Bye, ducks!" he yelled.

We'll see them again next week.